


Yuri!!! On Twitch

by phisen, TenchiKai



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Fluff, M/M, Mutual Pining, Nintendo Switch, Romance, Slow Burn, They're not skaters, Twitch Streamers/Speed Runners, Victor's Still Fab, chubby!yuuri
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-12
Updated: 2017-04-01
Packaged: 2018-10-03 10:57:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10243334
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phisen/pseuds/phisen, https://archiveofourown.org/users/TenchiKai/pseuds/TenchiKai
Summary: Yuuri and Victor never meet through skating, so they connect in the world of video games instead. Still searching, learning, pining, and loving.





	1. First Impressions//Summer 2015

He took a seat at the far back. Making sure that he wasn’t bothering anyone. Almost as if he was making excuses for his existence. He was tired, he realised as he yawned again. He’d been there for way too long already, but he’d decided to stay for at least a couple of more hours. Looking at the schedule, there were a couple of people he wanted to see. Wanted to see what they were made of. What they could do to the game he’d come to love.

 

He looked at his phone. The next speedrun was going to start soon. Seemed like they were setting it up, on the stage, carrying and connecting things to each other. He opened his backpack and rummaged inside it as a massive audience started to flood in. It was a feeble attempt at staying invisible. Two more energy drinks. He was probably going to need at least a couple more. Maybe he should leave, after all? Maybe it wasn’t really worth it. He yawned again and found his phone in his pocket.

 

Suddenly, the speakers in the room started to crackle slightly. It startled him. He felt silly for flinching, almost dropping his phone in the process, and glanced a bit to his left. Seemed like the person next to him hadn’t noticed.

 

“Are we on? Yes, we’re on. Okay so,” the announcer said whilst appearing on the large screen on the stage, “today we’re in for a treat. We have a special guest, all the way from Russia. I know he’s got a lot of fans here today! So, without further ado, give a warm welcome to the man most recognised by his Twitch-handle v-nikiforov. Victor, welcome. Get up here!”

 

The crowd started to cheer, some got to their feet. He knew wasn’t interested in him. He was only interested in the game. Or rather, what he could do with the game. He took his eyes away from his phone for a second, just to see who was walking onto the stage. He felt that he could give him that recognition at least and…

 

_Oh._

 

The world stood still for a moment, for something that felt like two heartbeats but still, an eternity. He somehow got to his feet too. It happened automatically, he just felt so compelled to see more. See more of… him?

 

“Welcome, Victor. Hey, who’s this?” The announcer had a smile coloring his voice, squatting a bit so he could pet a dog that walked off its leash. He handed the microphone over as people started to scramble for a headset.

 

“This is Makkachin. You don’t follow me on Twitch, I can tell!”

 

The crowd laughed. He didn’t catch why, and he didn’t care. He was all caught up in seeing those lips move, how he pulled back that silver coloured hair from his brilliant blue eyes with a smile. How he moved. What he was wearing.

 

“So, you haven’t brought any people to join you in the sofa?” The announcer held out his hand for the microphone to be returned as the headset came to life with a hum.

 

“No,” the almost god-like apparition said with a laugh as he adjusted the headset, “wherever I go, he goes. So… what, you’re going to sit in the sofa? I don’t need you to, but do as you wish.” He winked, fully aware of what he was doing, what reactions he brought forth from the crowd. Laughs, but mostly oohs and aahs.

 

He felt like reacting too. Join in with the oohs and aahs. His heart was beating faster, a sensation he was somewhat familiar with but hadn’t felt for quite some time. As the crowd began to settle down, take seats, he emerged from the haze that had caught him. Suddenly feeling mortified that he was the only one still standing up. It was a wise choice to pick a seat in the back. His heart started to beat even faster, because of an entirely different reason this time.

 

“So, I’ll be playing Ori for you guys today and,” he bent down and petted the dog that scurried around his legs, “yes, you’re a good boy. And… where was I?” He straightened himself and fired off a smile that, again, started that reaction in the crowd.

 

The oohs and aahs started another reaction in him. One he wanted to push away, one he wasn’t ready for. Not in this context.

 

“Yes, this will be good. I know for a fact that you’re going to be surprised.” He sat down, his movements were relaxed and smooth. He leaned back a little, and crossed his legs. He appeared to be confident. Extremely confident. “You guys ready?”

 

Of course they were. They were wrapped around his little finger, like he was a king in front of his court. Sitting there, way down in the back, he realised that he was too. Wrapped tight. He couldn’t wait to see what he could do to him.

 

“Start the clock.”

* * *

 

It was probably the shortest thirty-something minutes he ever experienced in his life. He wanted to relive them again, and again and… Yes, he knew that couldn’t get enough of him. As the crowd, seemingly impressed by the feat that had taken place on stage, cheered and applauded, he suddenly came to the conclusion that he had missed it. The game. The speedrun. He had been too preoccupied with looking at him. Listening to his voice, that enticing accent. Maybe, not even hearing a single word he had said. The reason he was there had suddenly changed, he realised.

 

He had done something unheard of, the announcer said. It sounded muffled, far away. That haze enveloped him again, making it hard to take in his surroundings. Making it hard to breathe. But he knew that he had to get closer. Just a little closer.

 

People were quick to flock around him, naturally. That was why he was there, to appease them. To show off. To be that unattainable exhibitionist. From afar, he seemed very approachable, though. That, and that alone, made him get closer.

 

Making sure that he wasn’t in the way, he inched closer to the stage. A lot of girls, literally hordes of them, pushed him to the side. With force. _Of course. He’s… that kind of guy._ Seeing them paw at him, making excuses to brush up against him, touch him… It made his heart sink. It made it hurt. It tore him apart seeing how much he seemed to like their attention.

 

He never dared to walk on to the stage. Never dared to even get in that line. Never dared to get closer than the twenty or so paces. He did what he always ended up doing. Watching. From afar. Looking up. Wanting to… belong, somehow. But, something unexpected happened, at least to him. Something that wouldn’t have meant anything to anyone else, meant the world to him.

 

Their eyes met. As they did, he froze. He couldn’t even make himself blink. He was captivated by those blue eyes, that chained him down with seemingly no effort at all. But, as soon as the spell had been cast, it disappeared again. Vanished into thin air. All because of someone taking his attention away. Sliding a hand around his waist, in a disgusting effort to get under his shirt.

 

He turned around instantly when his gaze found its new object of attention, he hated being freed of his invisible shackles. This feeling, it consumed him, like he he would burst and break in a thousand different ways. The sensation of his hoodie riding up his back, his thighs rubbing together, being restricted by his jacket as he slowly walked away became the only things he could focus on. He wanted to get away. As far away as he possibly could. This was not meant for him. He was not meant for him.

* * *

 

He felt extremely confident as he put away the controller. It had gone all according to plan. Thirty four minutes and seventeen seconds. A great time, indeed.

 

The usual routine was about to happen. He stood up, shook hands with the announcer who looked impressed to say the least. Then he waited. Waited for the barrage. He heard something about the donations that rolled in during his playthrough, $5000. He was really pleased with himself, being able to contribute in such a way.

 

He glanced at his dog, currently sleeping in the sofa. Luckily, his companion was used to these kind of arrangements. He was totally unfazed, even when the audience started coming closer, bringing with them a deafening noise.

 

As always, girls flocked around him. It was usually like that at events like this. At competitions, it was the other way around, mostly guys measuring him up. He decided that he would try to get away quickly, but as the line of people grew he sighed internally. _So much for that plan._

 

He steeled himself for a second and put on that mask of a persona he had honed for years. With a smile that could disarm anything and anyone, he welcomed the first array. He could stand the autographs and the selfies, but he had to actively stop himself from flexing away from the touches. _They are indeed shameless._

 

A small window appeared between two groups of avid fans waiting to come up to greet him when he felt a connection. Down below, a pair of eyes demanded him to look, to make contact. He felt caught as he did. This was new to him, the situation, the look and the feeling.

 

Suddenly, he felt confused. He wanted to go down there, get close. Ask why those brown eyes looked so lonely, why he looked so uncomfortable, and ask… his name. He wanted to know it. Wanted to know _him_. He felt this impulse, the tension in his vocal chords, but as he was going to speak he was distracted. He looked away for a second, annoyed by the feeling of a clammy hand slightly tucked in under his shirt. When he tried to look back, he was gone. There weren't any lonely eyes there anymore, nothing that demanded his undivided attention.

 

He accepted this very untimely loss, he had no other choice. Knowing very well that it was something he would be thinking about for days to come.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (TenchiKai)
> 
> We're at it again, folks.
> 
> It occurs to me to mention that the event is/was inspired by Summer Games Done Quick. Victor's playing Ori and the Blind Forest.


	2. Tokyo and Saint Petersburg//Winter 2016

Time seemed to fly so quickly, working with numbers and doing the same routine every month. Adjust the same accounts, pay the same monthly invoices. They had jokingly warned him when he accepted the position that this is how it would be, but he wasn’t prepared for how quickly the three months since his employment began would pass him by. Being an accountant, he knew, would be a safe fit. He was starting to wonder why he never second-guessed himself.

 

But it did allow him his life here. Tokyo was so much more than he was ready for. So different from his childhood home.

 

That’s not to say he didn’t enjoy it. Back in his hometown, he could walk to anything he needed, but in Tokyo he had choices of what he wanted. Cultures blended here, the old and the new, and it was a beautiful thing. The lights and sounds at night gave him a strange comfort.

 

But saying he wasn’t lonely would be a lie. Living in his small studio apartment, it was another shock he was getting used to. He always had someone living with him. Family through his childhood, roommates in college, but now he was alone. It was strange, that. How he yearned after human contact but when he had the chance, outside of the safety of those four walls, he shied away.

 

He knew that it was difficult, at least for him, to make contact. That realisation caused him to throw himself into video games, even more than before. Ever since the event the summer before last, he had found a favorite pastime in watching streams.  _ His  _ streams. He created a Twitch account for the sole purpose of knowing if he was streaming or not. Not that he was active. Not that he talked to him at all. But it helped him feel a little less lonely, reacquainting with that feeling from before. When he’d met him. Where he, albeit briefly, had found something he sadly admitted that he was missing.

 

It inspired him, even. He had built his own computer that was capable of gaming; it was easy now that money wasn’t a problem. He didn’t stream often, but he did, from time to time. That twitch account came in handy.

 

He still preferred to play on his PlayStation 4, however. Lately, he found himself focused on two games in particular: Biohazard 4 (in preparation for the new one arriving early next year), and Ori and the Blind Forest. He didn’t know why, but part of him wanted to be able to say he was on the same playing field as Victor. That he could occupy the same space, breathe the same air. 

 

And that’s how things were these days. Quiet, filled with work and video games. It was an endless cycle. Wake up, go to work, go home, play video games, sleep. Repeat.

* * *

 

He considered himself lucky. Being able to do what he enjoyed and making a living off of it. Countless of people would trade places with him without even a second of hesitation. He knew this. And it spurred him on. Made him competitive, hungry for more. Constantly striving to raise the bar. Constantly trying to surprise them. All of them.

 

He watched as his breath became a white mist. It was cold, the Russian winters usually were. He adjusted his muffler as he tilted his head back a little, preparing his mouth for the hot taste and sensation of his coffee. He took a sip, relished the flavour and the slightly smoky and bitter aftertaste. Coffee was just like wine, he thought. A distinct top note that set the standard and the base note that played on the palate until the next mouthful. No cup was ever the same. He liked surprises, even when they appeared as something as simple as coffee.

 

As he crossed through the garden of Petrodvorets, he chuckled when he saw a line of children, walking and in hand, with skates hanging around their necks. He had to stop for a while, dispose of his empty paper cup, and watch them as they plodded along behind their kindergarten teacher. It brought back a whole lot of memories.

 

He skated once, a long time ago. He had been good at it too, or at least, that’s what he had been told. As always with him, he’d poured his heart and soul into it. As he did with everything he put his mind to. He wanted to excel, go further. Become a living legend. It had been his everything for eight years, and it seemed like he was going places. Getting closer to become that living legend he aspired to be.

 

He had fond memories of that time in his life, but a lot of harrowing ones, too. Blistered feet, training for five hours almost every day without the possibility to do anything else. The frustrations, the seniors looking down at him. And of course, what made him stop. 

 

He remembered that day like it was yesterday. How he had prepared for a jump he was forbidden to try, but pig-headedly had decided to do anyway. How he had made all the rotations. How easy it had been. How the landing felt solid. At least until that horrifying sound and that tearing sensation in his knee made that part of his life come to a screeching halt. That knee would never stand the pressure of performing, not in the way he wanted it to. Bitterly, he had admitted that it would never stand the test of belonging to an elite skater.

 

It had been a horrible experience to find a new goal in life as a fourteen year old. He had been lost, angry and… yes, even a little depressed. He found games early on, since his knee prevented him from doing much for quite some time afterwards. With the repeated surgeries, he had spent a lot of time immobile. Playing games had proved to be a good diversion for a long time, but he never expected games to end up being his livelihood. Games had awoken an interest for languages as well, which made him end up with a degree in linguistics with an emphasis in French and English. And for that, he was thankful.

 

As he saw the backs of the children grow smaller and smaller, he called for his dog. He hunched down, prepared for impact with open arms as the brown whirlwind came closer at an alarming speed. As he got knocked over into the snow, holding on to the poodle for a brief wrestling match, he couldn’t help himself to think out loud.

 

“Wonder what that life would have been like… Skating, I mean.” He got to his feet and did his best to brush the snow off his coat. “Alright, Makka! Let’s go home and eat some breakfast.”

* * *

 

The idea of reaching out to him in this way had been occupying his mind for some time. He had been preparing for months. In retrospect, he found it silly, but there was little turning back at this point. He was a bit hesitant, but he’d been close to his record a couple of times and now, he was actually going to attempt beating him. He was too shy to appear on camera, but he had decided. He was going to live stream the speedrun.

 

Gaming was a little bit like being into sports, he thought. It was all about muscle memory, about a perfect hand-to-eye coordination. If you stuck with it, tried to do better with every attempt, you were bound to make progress. That is exactly what had happened with his sessions with Ori. Of course, he had studied his speedrun until he knew it like the back of his own hand, but that didn’t help him at first. He had spent a ridiculously vast amount of time trying to copy him, trying to beat him. And now, he felt confident enough to try it for real.

 

His Twitch had only a handful of followers, but he was sure that if he actually managed to beat him, that would most likely change...and quickly. That is how this community worked. People were backing each other to make progress, to beat each other. Although…  _ his  _ record was unbeaten. People had tried but everyone came up short.

 

He exhaled. It was time. Time to see if he was allowed to breathe the same air as him. Time to see if he could see him as an equal. He started the game, started the feed and prayed that he wasn’t going to make a fool out of himself.  _ Here goes nothing. _

 

Being in the zone, that was the only possible way to describe how he was feeling. It flowed to amazingly well, like he was the leader of an orchestra. It all came together, building up to a beautiful crescendo. Every little movement was executed at just the right time, getting him closer to the end. He never had the time to feel nervous or self conscious, his focus was somewhere else entirely.

 

As the ending credits appeared, it was like he fell out of a bubble that popped. He looked at the timer. He had to look again. He had beaten him, with forty two seconds to spare. Instantly, his pulse picked up. He felt it pound against his temples. He had actually beaten him.  _ So… what happens now? _

He was hoping to get some kind of small recognition, like a private message or something as insignificant, but his dreams were about to be surpassed in a way he never imagined them to.

* * *

 

The questions was flooding in, as always when he had his weekly Q and A-sessions. He usually played something for fun, not really paying the game too much attention, whilst answering questions. He enjoyed interacting with his fans, for the most part.

 

**‘ _phie_wdh_ : Please, v-nikiforov! A little chest, pleaaaa~se <3’ ** _ The thirteenth time, already. Jeez… _

 

**_‘twitchin4U_ ** **: What’s your newest project? Are you planning on showing up at some event soon?’** _ Same question as last week... _

 

**_‘r0shiag4mingt1gr_ : You really need to up your game, old dudes like you are the worst! F-U!’ ** _ Well, fuck you, too. _

 

Nothing was really interesting him. Not until…

 

**_‘orgn4l_nikifan_ : Hey, did you see katsu_kun’s Ori speedrun? He got you good, breh!’**

 

“Yes, I did! That was amazing. Guess I have to reclaim that record, somehow! Thanks for the video, katsu_kun!” He smiled into the camera.

 

He had been notified a couple of days ago that his record from almost two years ago had been broken. He didn’t believe it at first, but the video didn’t lie. He was indeed impressed. That Japanese guy’s speedrun had been really solid. To cut forty two seconds off like that showed skill and serious determination.

 

He had initially been a little annoyed, but he decided to see it as a challenge. The gauntlet had been thrown and he was picking it up without a second thought.  _ I’ll show you, you just wait. I’m coming for you. _

* * *

 

_ ‘Yes, I did! That was amazing. Guess I have to reclaim that record, somehow! Thanks for the video, katsu_kun!’ _

  
That smile. Those captivating blue eyes. He couldn’t believe that  _ he _ mentioned  _ him. _ He felt… happy? Giddy? Ecstatic? Maybe it was a little bit of everything. As his cheeks flared up and his heart fluttered in a very strange manner, he couldn’t stop smiling. He didn’t know what it meant, feeling the way he did, but he knew one thing for sure. He wanted to keep this connection going. Somehow.


	3. Tokyo//Early 2017

It was after he had mentioned him like that, that he had started growing in popularity. He now had a few hundred followers rather than the handful he had previously. It had given him a rush, but nothing like the words themselves. The ones that were uttered just for him.

 

It bothered him more than it should. He had mentioned reclaiming his record, but had made no such attempt. At least, not live. He had been quiet for the most part, playing the newest games and relaxing on stream like he did most of the time. To be honest, that was fine. While he was still a passive participant, there were several instances he _almost_ wasn’t.

 

But even if he did try to interact with him somehow, would he even say _anything_ in return, would he notice? Respond? He hasn’t yet...

 

And that’s what ate at him, poked holes in the little confidence he had. It was impossible to keep it going. That connection he sought, the one he thought was there. Especially if there was no response, no words said in reply. He knew he had no right to this connection, no reason to believe it would continue or even exist, but he craved it. Strangely enough. Wanted it.

 

Something about those blue eyes. Something about that smile, something about…him.

 

He kept playing Ori, kept watching the streams, streamed himself at times. Kept going to work. Again, the cycle didn’t stop because he wanted it to.

* * *

 

“Before I sign-off,” a yawn. He had been streaming for...had it really been eight hours already? He yawned himself. “I wanted to let you guys know I’ll be gone for two weeks.”

 

He didn’t stop the sigh that escaped him or the frown that painted his face. Well, it was going to be a boring two weeks.

 

“Don’t bother asking why, because it’s a surprise!” A wink.

 

Of course. Why would he ever disclose such a thing in advance? He had understood one thing about him after seeing him, getting to know him, on his live streams. He was a man that fed off of surprising people. It gave him a rush.

 

Strange, how different they were. How he loved surprises and things happening fast. Being at the centre of everyone’s attention. And how he, himself, wanted to stay in control. Plan things meticulously. Steer free from people’s scrutinising gazes.

 

He closed the browser window. _So, what now?_ It felt like his little squared-in reality had lost something very important. He would have to make do. After all, it was just for two weeks.

* * *

 

It was too interesting to pass it up. A launch event for a new console was a really rare thing to get invited to, and thanks to his efforts with playing Ori, gaining followers and some recognition, he’d been one of the lucky few. Crazy how life works, sometimes.

 

Getting the day off from work had been a hassle, and he had almost decided for himself to forget about it when he finally got the thumbs up. But now, he was on his way. Crammed between businessmen and schoolgirls in the busy morning traffic that was Tokyo’s subway system. It was awkward standing that close to strangers. He really tried to keep his hands to himself, fearing that he would be called out if he accidentally touched someone when the subway car jerked around while accelerating.

 

Eventually, he got off at Kokusai-Tenjijou station and made his way towards Tokyo Big Sight. It was his first time at a convention center of that calibre, and he felt slightly nervous when he saw the lines outside the building. He had tried to picture it in his mind beforehand, but he could only admit to the fact that he’d been mistaken. It was worse. Way worse. Of course, the launch of a new Nintendo console would always attract an enormous crowd, and especially if people were offered hands-on time with it.

 

After standing in line for something that felt like an eternity, he was let in. Since a lot of the attendants were from different kinds of media sites worldwide, they were offered pre-printed nametags with their names and companies on them. A lot of the foreign visitors thought it to be cute, but he didn’t. He felt like it took away the opportunity to stay invisible.

 

The lines were crazy inside too. People seemed to be drawn to the new Zelda game, but he wasn’t keen on standing in line for the ninety minutes the attendants said it would take. He decided to queue for something else instead, not really bothering with what he would actually end up playing. He just wanted some hands-on time with the console, then leave.

 

He was busy with his phone when he felt a little pat on his shoulder. It was his turn apparently. He bowed slightly, excusing himself for not paying attention and stepped up to the set up.

 

Maybe it was one of life’s cruel jokes or maybe it was a blessing. Either way, he couldn’t believe his eyes. _He_ was there. In the flesh. Standing, waiting for someone to step up and join him. _That’s why he’s gone for two weeks?! He’s here?!_

 

He was met by a beaming smile. He’d seen it before, that approachable, radiant smile that just… made his knees weak.

 

“Hi! Do you speak English?” A little wave before he offered his hand to him.

 

_He doesn’t know me, don’t panic. Please, don’t panic. He doesn’t know who I am. No need to…_

 

“Hm?”

 

He saw him lean in a little, apparently trying to see if he’d heard him or not. He felt his cheeks heat up in seconds.

 

“Y… yes, I do. Nice to meet you.” _Do I shake his hand? No, I’m… Breathe. Please, don’t make a fool out of yourself._ On its own accord, his hand gripped his. He had to force himself not to let go prematurely. There was something there. Some kind of electricity. His whole body responded to that handshake. He felt lightheaded, suddenly. His pulse was escalating, making him breathe faster. He had to exhale, he tried to do it slowly but failed.

 

“I’m Victor! And you are…”

 

 _Say your name. Say your name. Or… say something! Anything!_ “I… I’m Yuuri.”

 

“Yuuri? Guys are named that in Russia too. Funny, huh?”

 

He could only nod in response as the silver haired, blue eyed adonis turned around, taking a controller in his hand.

 

“Let’s play, shall we?”

* * *

 

It was his first time in Japan, and the country had really made an impression on him. Everything was well-organised, clean and the people were ridiculously friendly. He loved it. It was really something else.

 

The walk to the convention center took a couple of minutes. He was pleased with his choice, picking something close. He’d heard about the Japanese subway chaos and wasn’t really interested in giving it a go.

 

As he got close, he noticed that the lines were disgustingly long. He was early, but that didn’t help. It seemed like everyone was there, judging by the massive sea of people. Eventually, he got in and registred himself. _Wow, look at that nametag. That’s really cute!_

 

He looked around, knowing instantly that he had to get his hands on the new Zelda-game. A representative from Nintendo tried to explain that he would have to spend at least forty five minutes in line before actually getting to play it, but he thought it was fine. He loved to watch people and did just that as he waited.

 

A couple of Japanese men stopped and talked to him, asking him if he was indeed v-nikiforov, to his surprise. _Oh, right. The nametag._ They tried to make some kind of conversation, but the language barrier made it difficult. They settled for handshakes and selfies instead.

 

As it was his turn, after standing closer to an hour in line than forty five minutes, he could only laugh seeing the reaction on the face of the female Nintendo-rep as he stepped up to the console. It was like that for him. Either people recognised him for his achievements or they reacted to his looks. He knew this and had fun with it from time to time. This was definitely on the right side of fun, giving her a little wink and hearing her squeal a little. Japanese women weren’t as tactile, so he felt comfortable flirting a bit.

 

His first impression of the game was good. He was familiar with the Zelda franchise, but rarely played them due to his partiality for gaming on PC. Soon enough, his time with the game was over and he had to make room for another avid player.

 

The lines had grown during his time playing Zelda. He looked around and decided to try some other game, one that wouldn’t have him in line for more than one hour. He loved games, but standing in line wasn’t part of that deal. He saw a line for something that looked like a party game, and decided to give it a try.

 

After something that felt like half an hour or so, it was his turn. He had tried to see what the game was about, but hadn’t really been successful until he was at the front of the line. He laughed. This would be awesome for casual gamers. Really, this was the strength of Nintendo. Making games anyone could play.

 

Since the game, 1-2 Switch it was called, needed a second player, he waited until the representatives waved someone else up to join him. It was a Japanese man, maybe in his own age? He was busy with his phone and seemed to excuse himself a little as he put it away.

 

“Hi! Do you speak English?” He waved a little as the dark-haired, bespectacled man raised his gaze from his phone.

 

He had to steel himself a little as their eyes met. He couldn’t really understand why, but he felt _something_. Something he couldn’t dress in words. He tried to regain his composure and extended his hand. Secretly wished for him to accept it. He wanted to touch him, strangely enough.

 

“Hm?” He leaned in a little, and caught a glimpse of the nametag he was wearing. _Yuuri? And what does it say underneath? No way, katsu_kun?! Is… Is this… him? The guy who beat my Ori record? What are the odds?_

 

“Y… yes, I do. Nice to meet you.” He sounded hesitant. A little scared, even. His eyes were everywhere now, it seemed. Although… not meeting his.

 

It took a couple of seconds before he shook his hand and when he did, he felt like he had to brace himself. He felt a jolt go through his body, as soon as their fingers brushed against each other’s. It grew as their palms touched and felt like an explosion once he felt the pressure around his hand. Also… It felt like they’d met before. As those brown eyes looked into his, he understood this, somewhere inside. Like they were tied to each other in a way he couldn’t explain. Like he wanted to… know him. Ask him why he seemed so insecure. Ask him… anything. Everything.

 

He decided to start with the obvious. What he already knew. “I’m Victor! And you are…” It took everything he could muster to sound normal. To sound unfazed by what he was doing to him.

 

“I… I’m Yuuri.”

 

 _Say something. Don’t let him… get to you._ “Yuuri? Guys are named that in Russia too. Funny, huh?” _Smooth. Really._

 

He turned around, exhaling deeply as he picked up a controller. He wanted this to start. Whatever _this_ was.

 

“Let’s play, shall we?”

* * *

 

He stepped closer and picked up a controller. He was actually going to play with him, meet him where he was. The very thought made him dizzy.

 

“You don’t mind if I choose what we’re going to… play, right?”

 

He hadn’t heard him. He’d been too occupied with himself, his inner dialogue.

 

“I’m… I’m sorry?”

 

“Are you okay with me choosing?” He cocked his head in the direction of the screen, his silver hair moving a little as he did.

 

“No… Please do.” _Pay attention! You only have this one chance._

 

He heard him chuckle. He got a feeling that he’d missed out on something. Something that amused him immensely.

 

”So, Yuuri…” His voice sounded… teasing for some reason. “Are you familiar with milking?”

 

He wasn’t sure he heard him right. “I’m… sorry?”

 

“Milking. As in milking cows?”

 

“Mil… king?”

 

Their eyes met for a brief second before the pair of blue returned to the screen.

 

“Take a look.”

 

He did. And he regretted his decision immediately. Yes, the minigame was about milking. Milking cows, but… The way he said it, the way that his eyes had looked at him made him think of something else, entirely. As the instructions showed up on the screen, he felt his cheeks getting flushed. The innuendo was something else, the way you had to move your entire arm, you fingers too to… _milk_ a _cow_ …

 

No, there was just no way he could do that. Not with people watching. _Not with him._

 

“I’m… No, I, uh... “ He put down the controller, feeling mortified to say the least. “Sorry,” he said, making sure not to lock eyes with him or anyone else as he walked off.

* * *

 

He saw him walk towards the screen and picked up the controller. His whole being radiated insecurity, he thought. Funny, that. Here’s a person who had beaten him, which was no easy feat, and he was almost cowering when he was near him? He couldn’t understand it.

 

Then, a thought passed through his head. “You don’t mind if I choose what we’re going to… play, right?”

 

It seemed like he wasn’t paying attention. He almost flinched before he spoke. “I’m… I’m sorry?”

 

“Are you okay with me choosing?” He wanted to… Well, he wasn’t really sure, maybe lighten up the mood? Tease him a little? See if there was something behind that electricity he felt before?

 

“No… Please do.”

 

“So, Yuuri…Are you familiar with milking?”

 

“I’m… sorry?”

 

“Milking. As in milking cows?” He tried to keep his voice free from innuendo, free from it being tongue-in-cheek, but as soon as the words escaped his lips, he knew that he’d failed. The reaction he got proved this.

 

“Mil… king?” His eyes became large. He thought that they shivered a little for the brief second or so that they rested upon each other’s.

 

He felt ambivalent all of a sudden, but he couldn’t make it undone. He sighed internally. Maybe he made him… uncomfortable? “Take a look,” he said, trying to keep it light. Trying to keep it on the other side of awkward.

 

He studied him as the instructions were played on the screen. He knew instantly that he’d made a mistake. A huge one.

 

“I’m… No, I, uh... “

 

He wanted to apologise, apologise for being so insensitive, but he never got the chance. He thought he heard a faint ‘sorry’ as he hurried off, disappearing into the crowd.

 

Right then and there, Victor Nikiforov felt lonely, although he was standing in a sea of people. He realised that he’d missed a chance he would have loved to seize.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (TenchiKai)
> 
> I want you to know I had nothing nothing to do with this. [Here it is.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Xps4pOcepw8)


	4. Tokyo//Early 2017 (Continued)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (TenchiKai) hey..look...fluff....

He just needed to get away. It was an extremely bad idea coming here. To finally meet him and… He sighed. That had been so mortifying. Embarrassing on a whole different level. He knew that was why he was leaving. To save face.

 

As he pushed himself towards the exit, he felt a tap on his shoulder. His body stiffened out of fear for a brief moment.  _ No, please don’t let it be him! _ He carefully turned around. Strange, it was with a slight disappointment he realised that it wasn’t  _ him _ , it was someone else.

 

“Katsuki Yuuri? Katsu_kun?”

 

He nodded. It was a representative from Nintendo.

 

“Good, you’re not leaving, I hope? There’s a party for the media and the invited gamers in an hour or so. We want you to attend.”

 

He was there since he’d gotten a chance to bask in the spotlight after the Ori speedrun. He was there as an invited gamer. How could he say no? He got a small business card with the address to the venue and sighed. This day was really testing him.

 

But he went. Despite the nervousness he felt inside, he pushed himself and entered. He’d never been there before, to Game Bar A-Button, the mecca of alcohol and retro games combined. And, how strange it was, at least to him, he enjoyed himself. The venue was filled with other gamers, press, and a celebrity or two, and he felt relieved that he could interact with them through games instead. That was something he was good at. Something he knew and felt comfortable with.

 

It was more puzzling to him that people seemed to enjoy his company too. Thanks to the vast lineup of games, games that he knew by heart, he was able to put on a show. Beat even the most seasoned gamers and made them ask for more. It was a wonderful feeling.

 

Of course, he wouldn’t have been able to be as relaxed as he was without the help of some liquid confidence. He was usually very restrictive with alcohol, but people made him nervous and more often than not. He wanted desperately to fit in. Loosen up a bit. He felt thankful that the remedy to his awkwardness was so easy to come by.

 

As the evening continued, he’d drawn quite the crowd. So far, he was undefeated. He knew a lot of the games by heart, and strangely enough, the alcohol in his system didn’t slow him down. Didn’t make him feel clumsy. It felt more like a burning in his blood that spurred him on. It was a wonderful wedding between inhibitions on the decline and his ultimate passion.

* * *

 

A lot of questions later, he finally found his way. He cursed himself for being late, for getting sidetracked due to his whimsy. The saying that fashionable people are always late had stopped applying to him. He should have been there, what, two hours ago? 

 

He decided to just go in, disarm everyone and… drink. Yes, he really wanted to drink.

 

The place was much smaller than he’d expected. When the representative told him that is was a game bar, he’d seen something else entirely in his head. Something large, arcade-like. This was quite the opposite. Although… it could have been more claustrophobic if the people in the corner far down to the right were evenly spread out, but they were all clustered together. Like they were watching something.

 

He nodded a little as he got recognised, drawn to the crowd like a moth to a flame. The cheers and screams were deafening. To his surprise, the centre of attention was the Japanese guy from before. The one that got away.

 

He was totally different now. Open. Confident. Even… cute. The way he smiled, engaged everyone else…  _ Is this really the same guy from before? _

 

He decided to watch him for a while. He just kept winning, beating anyone who picked up the second controller. Surely, his change wasn’t because of him playing, he thought. He had to smile a bit when he saw that he had help, in the form of externalised self-assurance. He wanted some of that, too. Not that he needed it, but… it could be fun.

 

“Hey,” he called through the crowd, “mind if I’m your Player two?” When he got noticed, probably because he was one of the few speaking English, he was guided to the seat next to him.  _ Next to Yuuri. _

 

As he was about to sit down, he felt his eyes on him. He returned the favor, looked him dead in the eye. He understood that he probably was the last person he’d expected to approach him, his eyes said as much. 

 

“Su… sure.”

 

“Can I have some of that?” He pointed to the already opened bottle of beer to his left. Instead of waiting for an answer, he reached over and took it. Unintentionally brushing against him as he got back into his seat. He saw his soon to be Player one blush slightly.

 

_ A little less than half?  _ He downed it in one go, wondering why the Japanese crowd had a mesmerized look on their faces. As he put the bottle down on the table, people started cheering. He figured that it was because of their incapability to handle alcohol. They were probably impressed. The look on the face of the bespectacled, and now slightly shy, man was something else. He looked… enchanted. That was odd.

 

“Thanks. I’ll buy you a new one.” He winked a little. “So, what are we playing?”

 

“Smash Bros?” He sounded a little timid. He found it endearing, seeing him scramble for words.

 

“Oh, okay. I hope you go easy on me.”

 

As their eyes met, he understood that he had pushed a button. He suddenly looked determined underneath those black strands of hair.

 

“Never.”

 

It was game time.

* * *

 

He couldn’t understand why he just kept winning. He had been buying them both several bottles of beer, but that didn’t seem to take his edge off. He was getting more and more tipsy by the second, and still… He slayed him. He had to admit his defeat. He hadn’t been able to keep up with him at all.

 

Funny, how alcohol could be a blessing. How he’d gone from somewhat shy to laughing out loud, leaning against him as he did. Touching his arm every now and then. Looking absolutely captivating with every win.

 

He felt his heart beat a little faster. He realised that he enjoyed his company. Enjoyed how he made him feel. Enjoyed looking at him. He understood that he didn’t want the night to end. 

 

It ended in some way, when they became ushered out of the bar. He noticed that he wasn’t really steady on his feet as they were about to leave.  _ They really can’t handle alcohol, can they? _

 

“Hey? Yuuri?” He had one arm around his waist, the other was firmly in place around the back of his neck. Making sure that he… had him.

 

“Uh… mhm?”

 

“How do you get home?”

 

“Howm? Hau ai get howm?”

 

“Do you live far from here?”

 

“I juss don’... Oh, ai nou! Take me hooowm, Biktooooo~r!”

 

He had to laugh. This wasn’t at all what he’d been expecting when he’d gotten the invitation to come to Japan. It was better. So much better. The way his tongue had seemed to forget how to speak English, the way it distorted his name… He wanted to reward it. Thoroughly.

 

“So, say that I take you home. Where do you live? You do remember where you live, Yuuri?”

 

“...need to go. Subwei.”

 

_ Oh no, I’m not doing that.  _

 

“We’re taking a taxi, okay? You can tell the driver where to go?”

 

“O’couse! Ai nou where ai live, ai dou!”

 

A few moments later, they were on their way. Getting him into the taxi hadn’t been all that easy. It seemed like he’d forgotten all about going home, saying something that sounded like he wanted to continue. Have more fun.

 

As soon as his back had touched the seat back, he’d fallen asleep. Leaning against his shoulder. He glanced at him a little. His unruly hair had fallen into his eyes, his glasses had travelled a bit down the bridge of his nose. He wanted to correct all that, brush it out of his eyes, push them back up but he showed restraint.

 

Although his heart was beating out of his chest, telling him with every thump to do, do, do.

* * *

 

He had to feel his pockets a little, standing outside his door. He needed to find that key, somewhere, and the one he was holding on to wasn’t really in a state to help.

 

“Hey?” He decided to try and see if he got a response. “Do you know where your keys are?”

 

“Ngh… bi...ktor…”

 

He took the liberty of patting his jacket pockets. He heard a small jingle as he did. After fishing out the key, no easy feat having to support a very tired player one at the same time, he unlocked the door.

 

_ How do they even manage this?  _

 

The studio apartment was small. Really small. He’d heard about Tokyo being crowded but he’d never realised that it had effects on the sizes of apartments too. 

 

He took off his own shoes, putting toes to heel as he pried them off.  _ And now… to get him to bed. _

 

It was easy finding his way around the apartment. He was impressed, it was really tidy. He had been to several gamer pads and this was one of the nicer ones. Not a lot of furniture, but it felt like a home.

 

As he coaxed him closer to the bed, he saw some photographs on a shelf. He saw the resemblance right away, and concluded they were his family.

 

“I’m putting you to bed now, okay?”

 

No response. He was really out of it. 

 

He took off his shoes and tried to get his jacket off but decided against it after a couple of tries. He was limp as a rag-doll.

 

He looked at his phone. It was really late. Or early, depending on how you looked at it. He wasn’t really up for trying to get a taxi, making himself understood in the wee hours of the morning. Taking the subway was totally out of the question. So, he decided to follow the first impulse he’d gotten as he walked through the door.

 

He curled up in the sofa, way too short for him to get a good night’s sleep, and decided to wait. Wait and see what tomorrow would bring.


	5. Tokyo//Early 2017 (Continued)

His throbbing head made him wake. The downside of partaking in situations that needed liquid confidence. He realised that he had drank too much, way too much, as he rolled over to his back in a pathetic try to relieve the pressure in his head. He didn’t dare open his eyes, not yet.

 

_ I… I had fun yesterday. I really did. I can’t believe I even got home okay, feeling like I am today. Wonder how that happened. _

 

He sat up on the edge of his bed, feeling a little sorry for himself. Silly, really, but he couldn’t help it. It was complicated, feeling at ease with other people and alcohol… well, it just made everything so much easier. Until the next day when the consequences became all and everything. He finally allowed his eyes to open and slowly adjust. 

 

Not bothering to reach for his glasses, he thought about crossing the room to get to the bathroom. He needed a shower. He needed to brush his teeth. He stood up, feeling the pounding his his head getting worse. He felt an impulse of getting back to bed, but he figured that he could do that later. When he felt more at ease with himself. 

 

He gathered up his clothes that were strewn everywhere around his bed. Bending over to pick them up made him feel nauseated. With his clothes in his arms, he walked slowly, almost feeling the need to hold on to something. Past the sofa and into the bathroom. 

 

_ First, a shower. _

 

He put his clothes in the tiny hamper and removed his underwear, staggering a bit. 

 

The warm water was divine. He really needed the feeling of it metaphorically washing away everything that happened, or might have happened, that he couldn’t remember. He was hoping that he hadn’t made a fool of himself.

 

He started to think about the night before. Or, the entire day, really. How it had started being a total disaster, how mortified he felt. But at the same time, it had been everything he could ever wish for. He had met  _ him _ . Been close to  _ him _ . The realisation made his cheeks heat up a bit.

 

The event in itself had been horrible, but the evening that followed, it had been amazing. He’d felt at ease. Appreciated. He had actually felt, for the first time in a very long time, that he was somebody. The way he had been cheered on at that tiny game bar, how everyone there seemed to think he was the guy to beat… He felt slightly lightheaded thinking back.

 

And… then he’d shown up. Being all smiles, blue eyes and friendly. The image of him finishing off his beer suddenly popped into his mind. As on cue, his heart beat a little faster. He realised that it hadn’t meant the same to him, everything about him told everyone there that he’d been totally oblivious to the meaning of that action, but they had, well… shared a kiss. Kind of. He exhaled slowly, tried to get his racing heart under control. He still had difficulties believing that  _ it _ actually happened. And how he never wanted it undone.

 

And now, it was all back to normal. He had shared that moment with him, and now it was gone. He wondered if he would think back on that evening, wherever he was. If he had enjoyed himself. If he… had felt anything remotely similar to what he was feeling now, with hot water running down his back.

 

He sighed and started to wash his hair. But he just kept coming back. Invading his thoughts. Those blue eyes and that radiant smile that had been the center of his attention for so long. 

 

_ Wonder what he’s doing right now? _

 

He rinsed the shampoo out and continued with his bodywash. He felt a little sting inside, thinking that it all had reverted back into the way it was before. How he would be forced to watch him from afar and not share another moment, like the night before meant nothing. He cursed himself in his mind. He felt stupid thinking that he had any right to him, based off the strange coincidence that made him end up in Japan, meeting him and… He decided to push that thought out of his mind.

 

He turned off the water and reached for his towel. He dried his hair and wrapped it around his waist as he was done. 

 

“Hi! Good morning!”

 

The sound of someone else inside his apartment made him jump. He might have squealed a bit too. The worst part was, although he couldn’t see who the voice belonged to, he  _ knew. _ He was there. Out there, somewhere. In his apartment.

 

He froze. If his heart had been beating fast before, it was almost flatlining now due to the situation he understood he was in. He had been taking off his underwear, coming in and out of the shower. With the door open. In front of him.

 

His first reaction was to think that he’d misheard. That he, in some strange way, must have thought about him in a way that his mind had decided to play tricks on him. That thought disappeared quickly as his body reacted to the situation. He realised that he indeed was there, and that he’d seen everything, most probably. The apartment was tiny, after all.

 

Things started to click. He understood how he got home. How he got into bed, but…  _ My clothes! Did he… please don’t tell me he… No, no, no, no, no! This can’t be happening! _

 

He had to do something, he thought. Say something?  _ Like what?!  _ Go out there?  _ Most definitely not!  _ Play it cool?  _ HOW?! _

 

So, he did the only reasonable thing anyone could have possibly done when being faced with a situation like that. He closed the bathroom door, feeling scared, mortified, embarrassed. But also… curious, excited and somewhat jubilant.

* * *

 

He’d slept terribly, waking up and falling asleep numerous times. That sofa wasn’t made for sleeping on. It was probably the reason the faint noise he heard woke him up instantly. Made him open his eyes.

 

_ Oh? Now, that’s surprising indeed… _

 

He got a brief glimpse of his unknowing roommate for the night as he entered what he could only guess to be the shower. He couldn’t help himself, but he smiled. Not exactly what he’d pictured himself seeing as soon as he opened his eyes, but he was really happy that he did.

 

They had fun, yesterday. Wonder if that would continue in some way today. He yawned and stretched out a bit. No matter how he looked at it, someone was in for a surprise. He decided to wait, to see what would happen when he announced his presence. 

 

As the water got turned off, his eyes immediately got stuck on the doorway to the bathroom. He felt amused, he realised. It was one of those whimsical situations he just couldn’t get enough of, the kind of situation he lived for.

 

Soon enough, he saw him. He reached for his towel and it looked like he dried his hair. Still standing in the shower though, which made him a bit disappointed. He realised he wanted to see more. He could feel a tingle in his stomach. He was gorgeous, he thought. His mind got ahead of himself, making him think about how soft he probably was to the touch. What it would feel like to have him underneath his hands, to feel those curves.

 

He came out, eventually, with the towel wrapped around his waist. 

 

_ What a shame. Okay, no need to delay the inevitable. _

 

“Hi! Good morning!”

 

His reaction made him understand that he realised that he wasn’t alone, he flinched and made a little sound that made his heart skip a beat. As soon as he wanted to say something more, he got a bit surprised when he saw him close the bathroom door a bit too hard. Like he wasn’t really comfortable. That was puzzling to him.

 

He got up and walked over to the bathroom.

 

“Hey, sorry. I surprised you, didn’t I?” 

 

He was awarded with nothing.

 

“Yuuri? Why don’t you come out? I’ve seen you already.”

 

“Clothes.” The voice was low from within the bathroom.

 

“Clothes?”

 

“My dresser, I need clothes.”

 

He huffed, a small laugh.  _ Why this, all of a sudden? _ He decided to oblige. 

 

Much like the apartment itself, the clothes in the dresser were neatly folded and organised. He couldn’t get that smile that had been on his face ever since he woke up to disappear. He found the situation amazing. Not at all what he’d expected. He started to wonder if that’s how life together with him was, full of surprises.

 

He picked out a t-shirt and sweatpants. He opened another drawer and found some underwear, and walked back to the bathroom.

 

“I’m back, but… You really need to open the door, you know? Yuuri?”

 

The lock clicked and his hand was the only thing visible as it hesitantly came through the small opening. He couldn’t help himself, he had to laugh.

 

“Here,” he said as he handed over the pile of clothes. “I think you need both hands, though. Or at least open the door a little more.”

 

“No, no, it’s fine!” His voice sounded a bit agitated as the clothes got pulled through the small slit in the door, whereupon the door closed and the lock clicked again.

 

He pulled his hands through his hair. He would probably need a shower too, but that would have to wait. His main focus was to get that elusive, apparently embarrassed, man out of the bathroom.

 

“Do you always treat your guests this way? By staying out of sight like this?” He leaned back against the wall.

 

“No.” The voice from inside sounded a bit self-conscious all of a sudden.

 

“I thought so too. Care to join me out here?”

 

The lock clicked again, eventually. It took a little while longer before the door opened. He realised that he’d been holding his breath as he heard the sound of the lock, only to let it out once the door opened.

* * *

 

It was with great trepidation he stood with his hand on the door handle. He couldn’t believe what had just happened. That he was there, in his apartment and that he’d probably seen him and that he’d picked out clothes for him. Even underwear. 

 

His cheeks were scorching. He couldn’t for the life of him understand how he could act normal if he was to get out there. It would mean to be in the same room as him, without anything else to rely on than himself.

 

“Do you always treat your guests this way? By staying out of sight like this?”

 

His voice sounded cheery. Like he wasn’t taken by the situation at all. Of course, he was everything he wasn’t. Why would he feel uncomfortable and awkward? That just wasn’t him.

 

“No,” he responded. Feeling guilty.

 

“I thought so too. Care to join me out here?”

 

He unlocked the door and resumed having his hand on the door handle again.  _ I must go out there. I must go out there. Honestly, what’s the worst thing that can happen? Who am I kidding, the worst thing already did happen! And he’s still here. Here for a reason, I guess. He wants to be here, he could’ve left. _

 

He inhaled deeply and steeled himself before opening the door. He didn’t really dare look at him as he came out, with his head bent down slightly to avoid revealing his embarrassment, his red cheeks.

 

“Um… do you want breakfast?”

 

“I’d love some!”

 

Again, that cheerful confidence he could only dream of possessing. He wished he had some of that in him too. Especially now. He realised that he didn’t know what to say, what to do. It was all new to him, to be put in a situation like this together with someone you could only dream of meeting. Dream of spending time with. Especially in your own home.

 

“It’s going to take a little while,” he said over his shoulder as he rummaged around in the fridge.

 

“Oh, that’s fine. Hey, are you okay with me using your shower, then?”

 

He almost felt his knees buckle. Of course it was okay. It was more than okay. The realisation of having him in his bathroom, naked, it was almost too much to take in. He started to feel that throb in his head again, it was like everything inside him reacted to that mental image, making his blood rush.

 

“Oh, I… uh, absolutely. It’s fine. More than fine! I mean… yes, please, help yourself.” Playing it cool wasn’t his forte, that was obvious. He tried to calm himself, see it as nothing although he knew that it was quite the opposite. His mind raced and he could only ask one thing.

 

“You… you’re going to need a towel though. Let me get one for you.”

 

“No, don’t bother. I can use yours. It’s still in there, right,” he asked casually, pointing with his thumb over his shoulder.

 

“Wha… no, I insist! Let me get you a new one.” He couldn’t believe how laid back he was. Like nothing was embarrassing to him. Like nothing could faze him at all. With a prickling heat spreading over his cheeks again, he went to get another towel. 

 

“Here,” he announced as he approached him, holding the towel in front of himself. He was rewarded with that smile that continuously kept tearing down everything he had that reminded of self-composure. He had a hard time looking away, though. A thought about what people said about eclipses and looking straight into them suddenly crossed his mind. Yes, this was similar. He would definitely lose something being around him, he realised.

 

He had to turn away as he was taking off his shirt even before he’d closed the bathroom door. He knew that if he lingered, if his eyes were still on him, he would probably be lost to whatever whimsy he would throw his way. He knew he couldn’t deal with him in that manner, he had to do what he could to stay in control.

 

He went back to the fridge and started to pick out things to cook up for breakfast. He decided to do something traditional, something that he’d enjoyed as a child. As he was cooking, he glanced at the bathroom. He had closed the door, and that made him feel more at ease. He could picture it in his mind, what he looked like in there. He knew he wouldn’t stand the actual sight of him, it would be awkward and yet…  _ No, stop this. Right now. _

 

As he heard the shower being turned off, he realised that breakfast would take some more time.  _ Wonder if he drinks coffee? No, I  _ know  _ that he drinks coffee. I’ve seen him do it countless times.  _ He only had instant coffee, and hoped that he wouldn’t mind. He started to boil some water whilst tending to the breakfast in the making.

 

He emerged from the bathroom after a while. His damp hair was unruly, it was different seeing him like that. He was always very well put together. Luckily, he was fully clothed as he came out. He really didn’t need any more distractions.

 

“Here, I’ve made some coffee,” he said. Trying desperately to make it sound casual.

 

“Wow, amazing! Thank you, you’re a godsend!” He hurried to his side and grabbed the cup. “I can’t function without this in the morning. Thanks.”

 

“Oh, it was nothing,” he replied. Trying hard to focus on what he was doing.

 

“So… nice place. A little small, maybe?”

 

“Well, that’s what you get for choosing to live in Tokyo, I guess.” He looked at him from the corner of his eye. He was leaning back against the counter, holding the cup with both hands. He felt distracted with him being that close. “So, uh…” He really needed to create some space. “Take a seat. Ov… over there.” He nodded in the direction of the sofa.

 

“Sure. I won’t disturb you,” he said with a wink.

 

_ Everything you do disturbs me. Distracts me. In a good way. _

 

It felt better having him behind him and not so close. It made it easier to focus and ultimately, they would have breakfast sooner than later. 

 

“Do you like raw eggs?” He asked him over his shoulder.

 

“I always try things once. Surprise me!”

 

He found his answer somewhat amusing, the smile spread automatically across his face. Somehow, he kind of knew that. He tried to get it under control as he approached the sofa with a tray with small bowls on it.

 

“So, here. I hope you like it. That’s miso,” he pointed at the small bowl with soup, “and that’s just rice with a raw egg. Traditional Japanese breakfast really.” He put the tray down on the small coffee table, before returning to the kitchen area.

 

“Hey,” he heard behind him, “are you going to eat over there? Standing?”

 

As a matter of fact, that was the plan. He had noticed that he’d been getting a pulse as he got closer to him. He had a sudden rush of nervousness as he was standing next to him, and he really wanted to try to avoid any awkward situations between them. The morning had been really straining already.

 

As he turned around to tell him that he was fine where he was, he realised that those blue eyes were asking him to join him in a totally different manner. It took courage, but he came over with his two bowls, and sat down next to him.

* * *

It was a double-edged sword. His nervousness was bothersome, and the complete opposite of what he was expecting. Sure, he seemed reserved at their first meeting, but during their time at the bar, he seemed like a completely different person. However, his anxious nature was also… endearing. 

 

Adorable, even. He wanted him… closer. It seemed like he was keeping his distance for some reason, though. And so he asked for that, sitting there on the sofa he had slept on not long ago.

 

As he finally sat down next to him, he relaxed a bit. Took his food, and sat motionless for a moment. It felt like an awkward silence brewing between them, yet again. He decided to break the ice before it got any worse. He knew they didn’t have long left together, and he didn’t want to say goodbye with this unspoken distance between them.

 

“You know, you surprised me,” he took a bite of his breakfast, deciding he didn’t mind the taste. “I thought you’d play terrible drunk, but you never stopped kicking my ass.”

 

There. Finally. He looked up from his food, with a smile. A genuine smile. “Really? In that case, I wish I could remember.” 

 

“Oh, that’s a little depressing, actually. Do you have a tendency to forget things after drinking that much?”

 

He looked down at his food again, poking at it a bit. “Yes. To be honest with you, I don’t remember coming home.”

 

“Oh, that’s a simple question to answer. I took you home. I couldn’t leave you there being that drunk.”

 

They looked at each other for just a second before returning their eyes to their breakfast.

 

“I… see.”

 

“Lucky for me that you could tell that poor taxi driver where you lived. He looked really uncomfortable. Anyway, it wasn’t a problem. When we got here you were really out of it, so I just put you to bed and took off your shoes.”

 

“I’m sorry. I feel embarrassed now. I’m sorry for putting you through that.”

 

Instinctively, he touched his knee just briefly, only to enforce what he was about to say. “It really wasn’t a problem. It’s okay.”

 

“I should… um, probably give you something for the fare, though?”

 

He laughed.  _ Japanese people and their sense of order and justice. It’s really true what they say.  _ “Honestly, Yuuri! It’s okay! I’d say that you making me breakfast and letting me use your shower is enough. Don’t you think?”

 

“If you say so…”

 

He finished his miso, thinking about what would happen next. He realised that he should start getting back to his hotel to prepare going to the airport. He turned on his mobile phone and noticed the time, feeling a little sting inside. He wanted to stay, he realised. For just a little bit longer. But that was impossible.

 

“Yuuri?”

 

“Mhm?”

 

“I should probably start to head back soon. Thank you for the breakfast. And the company. I had fun.” He placed the bowl on the coffee table. “So, I guess that… I’ll be seeing you? Online?”

 

The lack of reaction hurt. Instead of saying anything, he’d lowered his head a little, letting the black hair fall into his eyes a bit. After a while, he looked up and met his eyes. He was going to miss those brown eyes, he realised.

 

“I guess we will. So… you’re leaving now?”

 

“Yes, I guess I have to.” He stood up and was pleased that he followed his lead. It would have felt strange if he hadn’t, considering how they had acted towards each other earlier. He walked over to the front door and put on his shoes.

 

“I want you to know that I really had a great time yesterday. And today too, for that matter.”

 

He saw his eyes travel a bit, like he got caught in some kind of reverie. He snapped out of it eventually, and looked at him from underneath black lashes.

 

“I had a great time too. The things I can remember, at least.”

 

He laughed at his remark. 

 

It was a little strange, maybe even a bit awkward, standing that close without doing anything for those seconds. He felt a little uneasy inside, feeling hesitant about leaving. He secretly wished he could spend a little more time together with him. To console himself more than anything else, he took him in his arms.

 

“Bye, Yuuri.” He spoke into his ear, hoping that the little vibration he felt inside wouldn’t colour his voice too much. It almost did, when he felt that he returned the hug. “Take care, okay?”

 

“Yes. I will. Bye, Victor.”

 

It felt, at least to him, that they reluctantly let each other go. But as they eventually did, he was quick to exit the apartment. He knew that staying there for too long after saying goodbye would probably make it a lot harder to leave. So he did, with a small wave and a smile he hoped didn’t seem too ambiguous.

* * *

 

As he finished waving, and closed the door to his apartment, he was struck with something that was foreign to him. An ache he wasn’t used to. He thought he’d be relieved. Having someone in his space, so close to him, it stressed him. Made him anxious like nothing else.

 

But, somehow, it felt like he had been forced to say goodbye just as he’d gotten used to the presence beside him. 

 

He didn’t lie, he did have fun. Had fun. Of course he had.

 

Those thoughts crawled out of him, and others, worse ones, joined in. Like before, he wondered if their time spent together, their meeting, would mean anything at all. Wondered if things would just go back to the way they were before. Would he only see his face now through a screen?

 

He made a silent promise to himself. If he did get the chance, he wouldn’t make a fool of himself next time.

 

He made his way to the coffee table, picking up the dirty dishes and deciding to clean them. A chore that would calm him, if only a little.


End file.
